


Everybody Else is Doing It, So Why Can't We?

by fiddleyoumust



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, The Cab
Genre: First Time, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/pseuds/fiddleyoumust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Marshall get high and take a page out of their bands' books by getting it on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Else is Doing It, So Why Can't We?

Ian loves Brendon and he's always really glad when the Panic boys stop by to visit. In all honesty, they probably owe their entire career to Brendon and that's something to be pretty happy about.

The problem is, that Cash is now mooning over Brendon, his ass practically off the chair he's sitting in an attempt to get that much closer to him. Singer is sitting with Spencer and Johnson, listening to them talk about percussion, as they all get quietly drunk. Ryan and Jon are on the couch, their heads together, their mouths moving slow, and Jon's lips tilt up at the corners happily when he says something that makes Ryan throw his head back and laugh.

It sort of sucks when his entire band is about to have an orgy with another band.

"So," a voice says in Ian's ear. "Our entire band is about to have an orgy with Panic at the Disco."

Ian turns around and smiles at Marshall and Marshall runs his fingers through his bangs, trying to push them out of his eyes. "It would seem so," Ian says grinning because Marshall is awesome and _not_ currently trying to be in on the orgy and that means that Ian isn't alone.

"I have a couple of joints in my room and I'm willing to share," Marshall says nudging Ian with his elbow. "Just you and me."

"You are my savior," Ian says seriously.

Marshall's room is a disaster area in the way that all people's rooms are after their mother stops doing their laundry. Marshall climbs on the bed and opens the drawer on his bed side table and pulls out a sandwich bag with a couple joints inside.

"Dude, that's the first place someone's going to look for your stash," Ian says, amused, as Marshall goes for a lighter on the top of the bed stand.

"Who's going to be looking for my stash?" Marshall asks sucking on the end of the joint as he flicks the lighter and holds the flame to the other end.

"Are you fucking kidding me dude? Jon Walker is downstairs. Hide that shit better if you don't want to share."

Marshall quirks an eyebrow and says, "You have a point," around the hit he's holding in his lungs.

"Share," Ian says and takes the joint from Marshall's fingers as he sits down on the bed.

Two joints and an hour later they're both startled by a loud thump in the hallway, followed by the distinct sound of Cash moaning, followed by Brendon saying, "Shh, shh, they'll hear you." A few seconds later, Cash's door closes loudly.

"Wow," Marshall says and then makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

"Yeah, orgy," Ian says seriously trying not to smile too indulgently at Marshall even if his giggle is really cute.

"I think there has to be at least five people for it to be an orgy," Marshall says.

Ian shakes his head and licks his bottom lip and then asks, "How the fuck do you even know that?"

Marshall smiles and wiggles his fingers in Ian's face before he says, "I'm a man of many mysteries."

Ian considers this and then says, "I'm hungry. We should go eat the left over pizza."

They make their way down the hallway rushing past Cash's door as quickly as possible. When they get to the kitchen, Spencer is sitting at the table drinking a sprite and reading a book. "Where are Johnson and Singer?" Marshall asks and Spencer looks up like he's startled.

"They went out for Taco Bell. We felt like burritos," Spencer says setting his book down on the table.

Ian thinks burritos sound really fucking good. But there is pizza now and Ian is hungry. He grabs the box from the refrigerator and puts it on the table. Marshall grabs a slice from one side while Ian takes one from the other and they both groan into their bite.

"This is really fucking good," Marshall says with his mouth full.

Spencer chuckles and says, "You two are so fucking stoned."

Marshall giggles again and Ian can't hold his smile back this time because it's sort of perfectly cute, and maybe a little bit hot, and clearly being around two bands full of people wanting to have sex with each other is starting to effect his brain. Thankfully, Singer and Johnson walk back in at that exact moment and lay bags of food on the table and that does a pretty good job of distracting Ian's thought process.

"Someone go tell Jon and Ryan there's food," Spencer says, pulling burritos and fire sauce out of one of the bags.

Ian stands up and wanders into the den and then stops short when he sees Jon and Ryan on the couch. Or, well, he sees Ryan who is straddling Jon which sort of blocks most of Jon's body from Ian's view. Ryan moves his head a little and bites down on Jon's throat and Jon lets out a throaty moan and then opens his eyes. His gaze goes over Ryan's right shoulder and suddenly he's looking right at Ian who's still frozen in the doorway.

Ian jumps and takes a startled step backward before he turns and flees back into the kitchen.

"They coming?" Johnson asks when Ian sits back down in his empty chair.

"Umm," Ian says, his cheeks pinking, "They're kind of... busy," he finishes lamely.

Spencer's eyebrow goes up and he looks quickly toward the den and then says, "I'm not as hungry as I thought," before he gets up and wanders back to apparently join in on the fun.

"Huh," Marshall says before he shrugs and grabs Spencer's burrito.

"Everyone in that band is really gay," Johnson says taking a bite of his burrito.

"Not true," Singer says taking a sip of his coke. "Brendon is like the straightest guy I know."

Marshall and Ian both crack up.

"What?" Singer asks looking confused. "What did I say?"

"Hey," Johnson pipes up. "Where's Cash?"

Ian laughs harder.

Singer and Johnson head back to their rooms eventually leaving Ian and Marshall with a giant mess. Marshall shrugs his shoulders and says, "I vote we leave it for Cash."

Ian likes the way Marshall thinks. Ian likes a lot of things about Marshall actually. Marshall is a likable guy. "Yeah," Ian finally says. "That sounds good."

Marshall smiles and something funny happens in Ian's stomach. Marshall's mouth is kind of pretty, and holy crap. Ian needs to be way more fucked up than he is if he's going to be thinking about Marshall's mouth. "Do we have anything to drink?" Ian asks, and Marshall's smile gets bigger, and Ian is so completely screwed.

Marshall leads them back into his room and Ian follows with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He thinks Jon brought it but he's hoping he's fucked up enough to be convinced he drank it when he realizes it's missing come morning. Marshall flops backward onto the bed making his hair fall across his forehead, the back sticking up all over the way it does in the morning before he's had a chance to put stuff in it, or attack it with a flat iron. Marshall's shirt is also riding up a little on his right side and Ian can see a strip of pale skin. It makes his mouth water unexpectedly and he twists the cap off the bottle and swallows, and then proceeds to choke on the sip.

Marshall sits up and when Ian can't stop coughing, Ian sees him get off the bed out of the corner of his eye. Ian tries to wave him off, but Marshall wraps one hand around Ian's upper arm, pulling him back toward the bed as he uses his other hand to pat firmly on Ian's back.

They sit together and by that time, Ian is mostly done coughing, inhaling raggedly and wheezing with his head between his knees. Marshall stops patting and starts sort of _petting_ , and Ian wants to jump off the bed because this all feels really weird. Ian takes it back, he hates Brendon Urie and his entire stupid band. They clearly make the entire world gay.

"You okay?" Marshall asks and when Ian nods his head and takes an easier breath, Marshall continues, "Good, then pass that bottle you greedy bastard."

Ian laughs and passes the bottle still clasped in his hand. Marshall takes a swig and then passes the bottle back to Ian. There's one joint left in the bag on the bedside table and Marshall fishes it out and lights it, taking a hit and then passing it to Ian before relieving Ian of the bottle again. They continue like that for awhile until Ian's starting to feel really, really fuzzy and he finally flops back on the bed, leaving the half empty bottle of liquor sitting on Marshall's floor.

Marshall takes a final drag off the joint, wincing when his finger tips get too hot through the thin paper. He licks his pointer finger and his thumb and puts the roach out with a hiss. Ian feels a low pull in his belly as he watches Marshall's tongue flick out.

Marshall sits up long enough to dispose of the roach and then he flops back down, settling himself so that his entire side is touching Ian's from shoulder to ankle. Everything is quiet and hazy and Ian can't feel his lips or his tongue. It's nice. Everything is really, really nice until Ian nearly jumps out of his skin from the loud thump against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Holy shit," Ian says. "That scared the crap out of me."

Marshall laughs and Ian sits up a little to look across the room when suddenly the thump comes again. "What the fuck are they doing in there?" Ian asks once he's assured himself the sound is coming through the wall from Cash's room.

"We probably don't want to know," Marshall says.

Ian lays back again and turns to face Marshall on the bed only to find Marshall has done the same thing and now they're face to face, bodies nearly touching, breath ghosting out across each others cheeks. Marshall's eyes are really pretty, his pupils huge and round, and Ian starts laughing and singing, "Your eyes are the size of the moon."

Marshall smiles and says, "That album is weird."

"Hmm," Ian says by way of agreeing before he scoots a little closer and sort of nuzzles his face into Marshall's neck.

"Ian?" Marshall says questioningly. Ian pulls his head back a little, a smile plastered to his face. Marshall looks at him for a few seconds before he says, "So, I'm going to kiss you now. Don't freak out."

Ian thinks that sounds like a really, really good idea and he is so not going to freak out. Marshall moves his head forward about two inches and then their lips are touching. Ian doesn't really know what he's doing because this is _Marshall_ , who is like his band mate and friend and it's _weird_ , but also, very, very hot.

Ian decides to just go with it because Marshall is pretty like a girl, and he has shiny hair like a girl, and his eye lashes are really long like a girl, so, this can't be that hard. Ian has kissed lots of girls. He flicks his tongue out along the seam of Marshall's lips and Marshall moans and opens his mouth. They both push their tongues together, fighting for control of the kiss and Ian ends up getting his lip nipped by Marshall's teeth.

"Ouch," Ian says. "Quit trying to be in charge. You're totally the girl here."

Marshall quirks an eyebrow and scoots a little closer until they're pressed together and then he pushes his hips against Ian's thigh. Ian can feel the hard line of Marshall's erection through both of their jeans and it makes him kind of hot all over, like his clothes are too tight.

"There are no girls here," Marshall says before he kisses Ian again. Ian lets him because he was so very wrong. He's kind of freaking out. He suddenly doesn't know what to do with his hands, but Marshall takes care of that by pushing Ian over onto his back and rolling on top of him.

It's weird having someone as heavy as he is above him but Marshall's hips are there and Ian settles his hands on them and digs his finger tips into Marshall's skin. Marshall's eyes flutter closed for a second and then he leans down and grazes his teeth along the stubbly skin of Ian's jaw and down to his neck. Ian moans embarrassingly and thrusts his hips up against Marshall's, trying to get friction where he needs it.

Marshall laughs, drunk and amused and Ian says, "Holy shit. You've totally done this before."

Marshall just smiles and then slides down Ian's body until his head is by Ian's zipper and, _oh holy mother of god_ , Ian wonders if it's possible to stroke out before he even reaches legal drinking age.

Marshall undoes the button of Ian's jeans, his fingers fumbling, knuckles skimming the line of Ian's cock when he slides down his zipper. Ian feels Marshall hit the side of his hip lightly and he takes the hint, lifts his hips so Marshall can work his jeans and underwear down around his thighs. He wants to spread his legs wider, but he's all tangled in his jeans and Marshall doesn't seem to care anyway.

Marshall grabs him around the base of his cock and licks a single, slick line up the underside. Ian makes a really undignified noise and clenches both hands around the messy sheets on Marshall's bed. He can't look away, watches as Marshall licks experimentally, and then groans and squeezes his eyes shut tight when Marshall takes as much of Ian's cock into his mouth as he can.

It's maybe the hottest and yet technically worst blow job of Ian's life. Marshall's mouth is hot and wet and messy. He's got no tempo and no technique but he moans enthusiastically every time Ian's hips lift off the bed. There's something insanely filthy about it all, Marshall moaning, and Ian thrusting, and every once in a while Marshall looks up and their eyes meet across the short distance.

Ian can't _not_ look. His dick is in Marshall's mouth and it's so incredibly surreal and hot and holy fuck. Ian reaches down, threads his fingers through Marshall's hair and pulls. Marshall makes a noise in his throat and it sounds like an affirmation, like he likes it.

Ian's fingers itch to touch, so he does; Marshall's cheek where he can feel his cock through the thin flesh, Marshall's bottom lip, slick with spit and pre-come. He presses his index finger into Marshall's mouth along side his cock and Marshall sucks harder, makes more noise, and Ian is so completely done.

"I'm going to," Ian says, breathless, and a second too late, because he's already coming, Marshall's lips still wrapped around the head of his cock. Marshall pulls off, swallowing and then wrinkling his nose when he ends up with come on his chin and cheek. "Sorry," Ian manages before he goes boneless and closes his eyes.

Ian's vaguely aware of Marshall climbing back up the bed, and it's only when he lays half on top of Ian that Ian remembers Marshall still hasn't come. "Do you want me to?" Ian asks, trying to work his hand between their bodies.

Marshall shakes his head against Ian's neck where he's tucked his face. "I'm pretty fucked up," Marshall says, the sound muffled by Ian's skin. "Maybe in the morning after I yell at you for coming on my face."

Ian laughs and says, "We totally joined in on the orgy."

Marshall lifts his head a little and smiles, lays a small kiss on Ian's chin and says, "Not an orgy. Just you and me."

Ian's heart beats a little faster in his chest and he feels warm and comfortable all over when he says, "Yeah, just you and me."


End file.
